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John's first solo becomes a marker. Before and After become distinct, separate in his mind.
The day before the flight, he drives out to the library to return a stack of books, then to the Newton Air Field to meet his dad for lunch. John used to love the visits to the base, walking under the planes, close enough to touch but not quite tall enough. He works at the museum next door now, and Dad loves it. This is John's last year of high school, and now that Dad's started his campaign for enlistment, the visits have become more about accidentally bumping into Colonels and Generals, John shaking hands and nodding, while his Dad watches, stands a little straighter, and grins.
The day before John's first solo flight, there are no hands for him to shake. There are Dad's carefully chosen words of advice and bland chili in the commissary.
The day after the flight, when John parks the Jeep between the hangar and the squat two-storey house that are Atlantis Flight, he's smiling. He usually is, when the traffic is good and the weather is better, but, today, something feels different. John feels different. And that's what he blames for making him trip over a pair of legs sticking out of a Beechcraft Skipper.
No one offers him a hand up, and it takes John a moment to get to his feet. The guy in the overalls gives him a look, then gets back to the plane.
"You're not planning on flying this thing, are you?"
"I--"
"It's not going anywhere. Grab that wrench and stick your head in here."
The wrench is on top of a red toolbox nearby, so John grabs it and shoves into the engine.
"I'm John," he says, offering the wrench instead of his hand.
"Don't bother. I won't remember." Up close, the guy looks younger than John had guessed. His round face is flushed and lined with grease. He has scruffy brown hair, and big hands that reach blindly for the wrench, but catch John instead. He looks over when they touch.
"Rodney," he says. As Rodney stands, wipes his hands on his pants, John follows, but even then, they don't shake hands. John watches him rifle through the toolbox, pulling out bits and pieces and shoving them in his pockets, then he gets right back to the engine.
The hangar is mostly quiet except for a faraway song on the radio and Rodney's tinkering.
"Sheppard?" John looks up and sees Sumner, coming out of his office, sunglasses already on. "What are you waiting for?" He comes down the stairs and walks past the Skipper to his Cessna Skyhawk, not waiting for John to follow.
Rodney's looking when John turns back. "What are you waiting for?" he asks, pointing his chin after Sumner and crawling back into his plane.
John thought he was waiting to fly.
His dad's advice didn't cover Rodney.